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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849556">Trying to Close a Distance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_next_time/pseuds/maybe_next_time'>maybe_next_time</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:56:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_next_time/pseuds/maybe_next_time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emy isn't sure what he wants or what he's getting</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emy/Mitja</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Trying to Close a Distance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emy/gifts">Emy</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life never made sense to him. Well, life didn't make sense to him. He spent this entire life believing it was all was unorganized chaos. One thing happens, then the next. None with any meaning attached to them. Things happen to him, around him, to the people around him, and he moved on. He was fine with this. He had to be.</p><p> </p><p>Emy has had relations in the past. Some had brief touches of intimacy, most were a mess of one-sided affection. He told himself, and anyone who would listen, that he didn’t try. He didn’t have a reason to. He never sought them out, they simply came to him. Sometimes he wanted them to work out, other times he couldn’t care less. But for every single one of them, he was filled with regret when they ended. </p><p> </p><p>After a while, they stopped happening. he wasn’t sure if it was because he closed himself off, or because some part of him pushed people away. To him, it didn’t matter why. He didn’t care that it was happening, and he wouldn’t care if it ever stops. Eventually, he got bored. Life without lasting connections wasn’t going anywhere. Living lost its flavor, and experiences just felt dull. </p><p> </p><p>He got used to the tastelessness that accompanied every one of his actions. It was always there at the back of his mind, reminding him that nothing mattered. He learned to push it into some far corner along with everything that caused it. </p><p> </p><p>Mitja, on the other hand, had none of the things he had. No fleeting relationships, no twisted ideas of how the universe worked, no tastelessness. Emy noticed that. Everything Mitja felt, he welcomed with open arms. He’d ravish in the things he enjoyed. Made them a part of him. Locked them into his heart until he found something new. He did that so easily. With no remorse, second thought, or guilt. He owned the key to his heart and decided what he’d do with it. </p><p> </p><p>Emy often wondered what would happen if he took that key. If he took what made Mitja special and made it a part of him. Eventually, he internalized it. His need for that key was a shadow on their relationship. It became the motive behind every action, every interest, every word he said. </p><p> </p><p>He decided a good way to start was to try to make them one and the same. He introduced Mitja to things in his life, and in return took in parts of him. But it was never enough. No matter what Emy did, Mitja always found something else to lock in his heart. Ironically some of those were his fault. Friends he introduced to Mitja, that became a bit more than that. Interests they learned to share that Mitja wove into his self. Watching him do that made something in him twist and ache. Like vines growing in his stomach trying to force their way out of him</p><p> </p><p>“What’re you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>Emy froze. He felt like he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Part of him wanted to run, but a much larger part wanted to look at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing much. What’s up?” He wasn’t sure how he sounded. He forgot normal around Mitja. Emy couldn’t tell if his voice always sounded like that, or if it was something he should be embarrassed by. Emy never knew why he was nervous. It didn't make sense, but neither did a lot of things when it came to the two of them. </p><p> </p><p>“Bored. Wanna do something?” Nothing he said was funny but Emy still laughed. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah sure”</p><p> </p><p>They ended up playing games. They always did. It was part of who they were as friends. Its how they met, and its what they’ve done ever since. Mostly it was just the two of them, but the days Emy wasn’t able to bear being alone with him he’d invite others to join. He wasn’t sure what made those days different until the day Usagi decided to dream up a world where he and Mitja were together. </p><p> </p><p>Mitja didn’t speak and Emy wasn’t able to stop. Emy felt the heat stirring in him. He released it in a series of pleads, insults, and whatever the fuck else came to his mind. As long as she stopped, he would’ve said anything. Something about the idea of them terrified and excited him. He felt butterflies and his stomach dropping at the same time. Hell, there was even a small part of him that wanted to hear the rest.</p><p> </p><p>She and Mitja both left eventually and Emy was left to crawl into bed to think about everything. He did and didn’t. He replayed the events in his mind, unable to even start coming to conclusions. </p><p> </p><p>He avoided them for a week</p>
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